


Buff It Out

by writingfromasgard



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Mechanic Halfdan, Modern AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 09:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromasgard/pseuds/writingfromasgard
Summary: Amara planned on a week of crossing off her bucket list before she stuffed herself back into work. Things don’t go as planned when truck problems leave her stranded in a small town with a big feud.





	1. Chapter 1

Amara hated this stupid fucking piece of shit truck. First, the breaks needed work in a town over and then the goddamn belt pops because the air compressor locked up. She pulled the broken belt from the truck and laid it to the side. “Why today? Why today of all fucking days?” She mumbled to herself. Her boss was breathing down her throat, her new trainee was an idiot, and now her truck, the same truck her family refused to let her replace because of sentimental reasons, was broken down.

She slowly slumped against the edge of the truck and tugged at her frizzy hair. As if Thor laughed at her, a crackle of thunder roared in the sky. That’s when the dam finally broke. Tears flooded her eyes and she started sob, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. She knew it wouldn’t help the situation but it would make her feel better for the present time.

Even with the rain beating down on her, she felt no rush to get back into the car until she had finished crying. Her clothes weighed down with the weight of the water by the time she lugged herself into her truck. Amara hit her steering wheel out of frustration and looked at her phone. At least that wasn’t dead but her roadside assistance would cost a chunk out of her road trip money. She picked up the phone and started dialing the number when a knock on her window startled her.

Her phone jumped from her hand and she screamed louder than she should have. There wasn’t anyone there, only a twig that was weighed down by the rain. She recovered her phone as she connected to roadside assistance. After jotting down information about the tow truck and the cost, she waited an entire hour to towed to a nearby mechanic shop. It was closed for now and the hotel was a twenty-minute walk in the other direction – more money she didn’t want to spend until her truck was running.

After payment was confirmed for the tow truck, she climbed back into her truck soaked to the bone and peeled off what she could in the dark. Tomorrow, she’d already be at the mechanic and her problems could be fixed within an hour of being up! She tossed a dry shirt on and curled up on the front seat to sleep for the night.

Four loud taps on her window roused her from sleep. Amara groaned as she wiped away the sleep from her eyes and manually rolled her window down. Two men stood outside her car, one of which made a sound of triumph. “I told she was only sleeping! You’re such a cynic, brother.” 

She blinked and slumped against the wheel of her truck, eyes wanting to drift back to sleep. Getting rest last night proved harder than she thought. Strange noises, occasional shots popping off, loud drunks. “Are you the mechanic?” She asked, her throat too dry for her to say it any louder.

One of the men moved close to the window and leaned against her window seal. He was nearly bald aside from a strip of hair down the middle and a well-groomed beard that made her think of fuller Guy Fawkes. “He isn’t. I am. Can I ask why you’re sleeping in front of my shop? This isn’t a hotel.” 

The other gentleman, a long braid for his hair that gave you the sense he rode a motorcycle, laughed and slapped ‘Guy Fawkes’ on the back. “Excuse my brother. He is not good with women.” Amara held up a finger and searched her floorboard, under her wet clothes for the snapped belt. She thrust it towards the two of them. 

“I need a belt that will bypass my air compressor. I can pay for it and I’ll do the work myself and leave.” Guy Fawkes grabbed the belt and folded it in half before stretching it across his arm span. He then brought the frayed edges closer and dragged a hand down his face. “The only reason I slept here was because the nearest hotel is more than 20 minutes walk from here.”

“Put the truck in drive and I’ll push it closer to the shop. Harald, help me before you go off.” Guy Fawkes tossed the belt in the back of her truck and moved around the back of the truck, Harald following behind him. When he yelled, Amara put the car in drive and the two men pushed from behind, moving the truck up closer to the left garage door. 

She put it in park and finally stepped out of the truck. Amara reached underneath the wheel, having to bend over to reach it, and pulled the release for the hood of the truck. It took a few yanks before the stubborn think clunked its indication that it was popped. “Piece of shit truck.” She mumbled under her breath. She turned to the two and sighed heavily. Harald’s eyes jumped to her face with a grin that would put a politician to shame. 

Guy Fawkes seemed more interested in retrieving the belt and moving around to the front of the truck. “Hey, I said I would do the work. I don’t have any money to pay you with.” He looked at her momentarily and raised the hood of the truck.

“There isn’t any use in selling you the wrong belt. I need to know how short of a belt you need. No fee to look at it.” Amara’s face softened and she moved to the side of the truck to see what he was doing. He took a look at her and pointed to several dark, shiny parts on her motor. “You’re lucky this didn’t happen while you were on the road. This belt’s been slinging melted rubber for a while now. Why didn’t you have it looked at before? I’m sure you noticed the burning smell.”

She pressed her lips together and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I noticed it a few times. I thought it was because I hadn’t changed the oil on time. I’ve been too busy lately to do any maintenance on Petunia..” He jerked his head up and gave her a bewildered look. She felt sheepish to admit she hadn’t bothered to maintain her car as well as she would have liked.

“Forgive my brother, Halfdan. He gets edgy when it comes to cars.” Amara stiffened as Harald came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Maybe I could take you to get food while he works out his issues and finds the right belt?”

Amara could feel the skeevies coming off of Harald in thick vapors. If she went to get food, she doubted she would be returned without rejecting some type of offer from him. “No thanks. I’m not hungry. I want to get back on the road as soon as possible.” She declined, slipping out of his arms to investigate what Halfdan was now doing. He was tinkering with her truck more than she would like and she was mentally racking up the cost he would tack on for each inspection.

Halfdan finally stopped and wiped his soot-covered hands on the front of his jeans. He looked up at her and she swore she could see the fury in his gaze. “This is a good truck.. but if you don’t give it attention soon, it’s going to fall apart. I don’t have the belt you need here but..” He seemed to furrow his brows deeper, like he didn’t want to say what he was going to next, “I know someone who might. It could be a few days before they deliver it.” 

Amara’s face fell from hopeful to flat. A few days? A few days out of her two-week long road trip she would be stranded in a small ass town with her shit truck. “They couldn’t get it here any sooner? I really need to be back on the road. I have this whole trip plann–” Halfdan held his hand up and cut her off.

“You said you didn’t want any extra costs. You can wait two days and get it for only the price of the belt or pay me per hour for every hour my shops closed while I go get it from the next town over. That’s a two-hour trip one-way.” Amara slumped her shoulders and relented to his will. It was unfair of her to assume this man had nothing better to do than fix her problems. 

“Alright... A few days it is.” Halfdan stroked his beard for a moment and then gave a curious look to his brother over his shoulder. She turned her head and wondered if they had some type of way of reading each other’s thoughts because Harald started nodding.

“Not a bad idea, brother.” Halfdan mumbled. He turned away from Amara when she looked back at him and reached for the handle of the garage, hauling it up with impressive strength. “I have a deal for you. You stay here, help out at the shop until we get your belt, and I’ll fix the rest of your truck up no charge.” 

Amara’s mood drastically improved from the suggestion but her pessimistic side wiggled its way out of her mouth. “Sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?” Her eyes narrowed on Halfdan and her arms crossed over her chest. Suspicion was heavy in her gaze but he seemed unaffected by it. He grabbed a rag and finished wiping off the remaining soot.

“The catch is that you have to work on your truck yourself. I’ll teach you but you do the labor.. and you still pay for the cost of the belt.” Halfdan strolled back over to her and stuck his hand out. “I have a couch in the back of the shop you can sleep on too since you’re so worried about cash. Shake on it?” 

Amara weighed the options. Learning a thing or two about her truck would be beneficial in the future.. no more being swindled by mechanics with lingo she couldn’t understand and as long as Harald kept his hands to himself, she could handle hanging around this place. She stuck her hand out and grabbed his palm, shaking his hand. “Sounds like I’m getting the better end of the deal.”

Harald guffawed behind her and Amara wondered if she made a mistake. Halfdan dropped her hand and his brows lifted to the skies. “We will see how you feel when I put you to work. For now, you could ride with my brother to get food. The only type of food I have here is for vehicles.” He turned from her and walked into the garage, turning his attention to a toolbox that had scuffs or smears of oil on the drawers’ handle. 

“You are forgetting about her name, Halfdan.” Harald called behind him. He only waved over his shoulder as he plucked a tool up. Harald laughed again and slipped his arm around her shoulders with a grin. “Let’s give him a couple of hours in peace. I’ll take you to a diner and pay for your meal if I get a name.”

“Amara.” She supplied him. His grin took up his entire face and he jabbered on about the diner while they walked to a car parked in the rear. It was certainly nicer than she thought he could afford in such a small town but gave it no more thought as they pulled out of the shop and headed down the road.


	2. Chapter 2

The ride was no more than fifteen minutes to the diner yet every one of Harald’s questions about who Amara was often cut short by his long-winded stories of the town itself. He swept her into the diner before she could even catch her breath from stepping out of the car. They were seated quickly in the near-empty place by a woman who looked to be in her forties with a very keen interest in Harald.

Amara busied herself with the menu while Harald spoke like.. like a greasy politician almost. One who was weaseling himself out of a scandal from the sounds of the conversation. The waitress’ voice was hushed but every few words Amara could hear a sharp-tongued word which made her smile. By the time she looked up, the thin-lipped smile that greeted them had melted into a demure grin. 

After taking their drink orders, the waitress, Anne, had scurried off to get their drinks in a haste. “I hope you don’t think of me too badly, Amara. A small town gives you little grace when rejecting a woman. People talk too often.” 

Amara’s lips twitched into the tiniest smile and she glanced up at him. “I know. I grew up in a small town, too. People have nothing to do but sit around and talk about another.” Harald rubbed his hands together and grinned nervously.

“She was under the impression that I brought you here as a date. Is that where you traveled from?” He asked, glancing over the menu. She nodded, picking up her own menu. A variety of local favorites mixed with national ones littered the menu.

“It was supposed to be a trip to different towns. Explore the world and find myself.. or some bullshit like that.” Amara explained, rolling her eyes. She sounded like a woman in her early twenties. “I was tired of the daily grind. I needed fresh air.”

Two steaming cups of coffee were placed down on the table in front of them. It smelt heavenly to Amara who could still feel the chill of last night’s storm. She ordered light: toast, scrambled eggs, and fruit. Mainly because she needed to be cheap and not take advantage of his generosity. Even with Halfdan’s offer, she wasn’t sure if she would have enough to get back home.

“It can be that way as you get older. Watching children grow up has a way of getting to you.” Amara held her mug with both hands, choking out a laugh at his suggestion. “No kids? Your husband must want them.”

Again, she laughed. “I have no kids and I am not married.. unless you count my job. I’ve been working hard ever since I turned fifteen.” She moved the mug up to her lips and sipped on the hot liquid. She felt it pool in her stomach and begin to warm her from the inside out.

She could see the interest go up in Harald’s eyes. Clearly, his statements had been to prompt her to speak about both of those subjects. With the waitress swooning over him, she wondered how much of a ladies’ man Harald was or was it the prospect of new blood?

“A woman with a drive for work. My brother will be able to appreciate that. Am I to assume that you will leave after the repairs to your truck?” Harald gulped down his coffee, exhaling his enjoyment of it. She felt a ping in the back of her mind. A prod that something was off about his questions, the wording of them.

Amara stared down at the cup of coffee and with furrowed brows, ran through what money she may have left after repairs. “I will have to go home. The repairs will be too expensive for me to stay anywhere.” She took a deep breath and looked up at Harald with a big smile. “Sorry if that disappoints you.”

He waved the air between them, returning her smile. Her eyes caught a glimmer of a gold tooth before their plates of food were sat down in front of them. “When you aren’t helping Halfdan, maybe you can help me some. I will pay you what I can.”

The ping turned to a sharp stab in her mind and she silently nodded to him. Was it the used car salesman personality he had that made it seem like his offer sleazy? She would see what he wanted done and if wasn’t for her, she could decline it. Their meal was eaten in silence as she turned over her predicament.

Her phone was dead after being off its charger all night, her truck was in need of repairs, and she was relying on two strangers to help her out. One who was too generous in offering help and the other scowling at her from the minute their eyes met.

Every one of her instincts screamed for her to run yet logically she knew she couldn’t hike all the way home. Amara was brought back out of her thoughts when Harald put down the cash to cover both of their meals. Actually, it was more than enough to cover if they ate the meal five times over. It added to the suspicion in her mind.

Amara followed him back to his car, slipping back into the seat she occupied before. “Does your brother always greet strangers that way?” She asked, buckling her seatbelt. Harald turned the key in the ignition with a hearty laugh.

“He enjoys cars more than he does people. He doesn’t have to speak to them.” She found herself smiling. Harald fastened his belt and started back to the shop. “If you want to get on his good side, make coffee when the pot is dry.”

“Does it improve his manners?” Amara blurted out. She meant to keep that thought to herself but it slipped out easily of her mouth before she could stop it. Harald laughed hard at her question and pulled around back of his shop.

“He has never done well with beautiful women. If you prove yourself hardworking, he will warm up to you.” Amara doubted his words as they both exited the car. She made her way around the front to see that Halfdan was busy speaking to another man.

“Bjorn! What a pleasant surprise.” Harald boomed beside her. The man turned to look at him and smiled, albeit small. Amara followed behind Harald as he approached the two men and she glanced over at her truck. The hood was still popped but next to it was an older looking car cranked up on its front axis.

“Another one, Harald? She looks younger.” Bjorn commented. Amara whipped her head back to him and narrowed her gaze. He raised his hands in defense. “And a glare that would put Ivar to shame.”

“She is not mine, Ironside. Amara is here to fix her truck.” Harald explained, motioning over to the vehicle. Halfdan wiped his hands on a rag and shook his head. Bjorn’s attention shifted to her now as he examined her from head to toe, not something she found herself fond of.

“Harald was showing me to the diner where we met his.. Girlfriend?” Amara guessed, eyeballing Harald to explain more. A grin cracked across Bjorn’s face and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Friend. She’s only a friend.” Harald said, smiling uneasily at Bjorn. Amara glanced between the three men and rolled her eyes. Whatever weird shit was going on between them, she didn’t want a part of.

“Right. I’m going to look at Petunia now.” Ignoring the strange look she received from two of them, she made her way back to her truck. She opened the driver’s door and dug in the pocket for her favorite hard candy she kept on hand. Popping a piece in her mouth she slammed the door closed and looked into the hood.

Halfdan had been fiddling with her tensioner, leaving a wrench securely on the bolt. A new belt was slung over the side of the truck. She wondered if he had found a belt that would work and picked it up, stretching the belt between her hands to see the length.

Compared to the broken belt, this was shorter in length. Too short as she read the size of the belt imprinted on the flat outer side. “If only you were one size bigger.” She mumbled placing the serpentine belt down.

“Have you replaced a belt before?” Amara jumped, surprised when she heard the voice behind her. Halfdan grabbed the small belt and threw it back on a wall of hooks containing other belts. “Or do you just know what size you would need?”

She placed a hand over her heart to calm its fast pace. “I replaced a belt a few years ago. Car mechanic told me it would take a hundred to do it and I didn’t have that. Bought it online and learned.” Halfdan leaned over the side of the truck and pulled off the wrench, wiping it clean with his rag.

“Good. I already made the call about the belt. She’s driving it down next Saturday when his shop is closed.” Amara moved back from the truck and let Halfdan close the hood. He glanced at her then shook his head. “After I finish Bjorn’s job, i’ll walk you through how to change your oil. Petunia needs it badly.”

She could almost believe he was teasing her about the name of her truck. “Can I help with anything? Since you are doing me a big favor with my truck.” His brow hiked up as he glanced behind him at Bjorn’s vehicle. When he turned back to her, he scratched his beard as if thinking.


End file.
